Four Letters
by batzmary
Summary: SPOILER ALERT. It's been seven years since Tris's death and Four, in a desperate urge to talk to her, decides to write her a letter. The years go by and he ends up writing her four. "..but I wasn't meant to say goodbye to you because perhaps I'm not finished with you just yet, that perhaps you still have to See ME soon. It's a silly thought, but I like it and I'm holding on to it."
1. First Letter

Four Letters

_First Letter _

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My Tris,

Today's been seven years since your death. Yes, seven years. I'm no longer the 18 year old boy you once met in the Dauntless Compound; I've grown now, but that doesn't mean that I have forgotten about you. How can I? You were more than my first love; you were my best friend, my partner, my equal. You were the one that gave me enough strength to keep going. Up until this day, the memory of you, of how strong and full of life you were helps me to get back on my feet and keep walking. I want to live they way you would have lived.

I once told you, in Erudite Headquarters, that if you died, I died too. Well, I didn't lie. The moment I told you that I loved you I gave you a part of me that I never got back. When you died, a part of me died and since then I've never been whole again.

It still hurts. I guess that when you lose someone so dear to you the pain never goes away, it remains there, like a splinter poking and bruising your heart with every beat it takes. There comes a moment that the part where you're bruised becomes numb, but the wounds that a person's death leaves on you are different; those never become numb, but you learn to live with the pain.

In these past few months I've been dreaming of you more than usual. Every night you're there. Every dream is different.

Last night I woke up sweating and crying and yelling out your name.

I dreamed that I was running to the Weapon's Lab back at the Bureau compound, running to you, running to save you. The halls kept getting longer, my feet getting heavier, my sight turning dark at the edges and my lungs felt like if they were made out of a tight rubber, not expanding enough for air. I felt like millions of pairs of hands were restraining me from continuing. But I fought against them. I fought them with all my strength because I had to reach you. I had to get to you and protect you.

But I couldn't protect you. When I finally reached the Weapon's Lab, he shot you, right in front of me. White pain shot through my body as I watched you press the green button as you collapsed. I froze and I yelled your name. Or at least I think I did, my ears were deaf. You looked at me, your eyes, even though they were losing their light, continued being stern and full of love. You smiled at me and I broke.

At that moment I woke up.

I hate those nightmares, but, as odd as it sounds, a part of me is thankful for them because I get to see your face again, it doesn't matter how painful it is. They're always worth it if it means that I get to see you.

I talked to Christina about it. She told me that she has been dreaming about you and Will a lot too, so we went to see Matthew to see if he could help us figure it out since, you know, he's all into that brain and memories stuff.

He talked to me first, and he told me that it's normal considering that…

Well…

Tris.

My Tris. Beatrice…

You once told me to call you Beatrice in special occasions.

I'm getting married.

You have no idea how difficult is to write those words, especially to you.

Matthew said that I would probably feel better if I told you about it, but since there is no grave where I can visit you, he said that writing you a letter would probably help.

I thought it was a stupid idea. And yet, here you have me, writing it anyway. As you can guess, I'm desperate.

Her name is Gabrielle.

I didn't meet her in the Dauntless Compound; I didn't throw knives at her, taught her how to fight or shoot a gun or first kissed her in the chasm. I didn't show her my fear landscape or fought her bad dreams off with my bare hands. But I did tell her about you. I told her about how Chicago's big historic hero was the owner of my heart and how she took a part of me with her when she died.

I met her in the most boring place at the most boring time. I met her at this thing we now call the grocery store and she helped me pick out a watermelon. She came from the fringe. She is kind and selfless and, even though her hair is black and wavy and she's taller than you, her strong blue eyes remind me of you. I think that's what caught my attention, her eyes. They are so full of life just like yours.

For a long time I thought that I would never be able to love again and when Gabrielle came into my life I was afraid. Yes, the big Dauntless prodigy, Four, was afraid, don't laugh at me. I was afraid because I felt like I was betraying you, and it didn't feel right. I didn't like when I caught myself thinking of her and smiling and I didn't like that every Thursday I would purposely bump into her so she would help me pick out another watermelon.

After continuous nagging from Christina and Zeke's part, they finally convinced me that I had the right to move on and I asked her out on a date.

I know for a fact that you would hate her. I would hate any guy that caught your attention that wasn't me, but somehow, I would try to find the strength to let you go, because I know that I would want to see you happy.

I feel happy when I'm with her. I love her.

But Beatrice, my love, she will never, ever replace you, because I already gave you that piece of my heart that died with you. She will never have that. That is yours. I am yours.

I will be forever yours, Stiff.

Love,

Tobias.


	2. Second Letter

Four Letters

_Second Letter_

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My Tris,

Moments like this are when I wish I could talk to you more than ever. You always had a way to set me up straight. I don't know what to do. It's the first time ever since your death that I don't have a plan, or don't know in which direction to move. I haven't come home in two days since Gabrielle told me that she's pregnant. Yes, my wife is pregnant. Three weeks.

Christina found me at the bar two nights ago after Gabrielle called her asking if she had seen me. I was beyond drunk and apparently going out of my mind as I was about to start a fight with a man who was twice my size and way more sober than me. She had to call Zeke and Amar to get me out of there. I have stayed at Christina's ever since. She doesn't talk to me though; she thinks that I'm being a coward. I agree with her. But at least she lets me eat her food.

Writing to you the last time helped me. It helped me in a way that you cannot imagine. So I'm hoping that writing to you now helps me to pull myself together. I know I need to get back to my wife and be a father to that child.

But Tris, how do I do that? How do I become a father to that kid when the only example that I got of a father was a belt to the back? You know that one of my four fears was to become like Marcus. I don't want to turn into him. I don't want to terrorize my child thinking that what I'm doing is the best for him or her. I don't want to do to him or her and my wife what my father did to me and my mother. I want to be better than that. I want to be a loving father; I want to be a father that helps to cure wounds instead of causing them. I want to be a father that doesn't lose his temper and isn't as hard on him or her as I was on you.

A baby is a very delicate thing. I cannot teach it like a Dauntless initiate. I cannot teach it like I taught you or Christina; or like Amar taught me.

I feel like I was too harsh on you at times, and yet, you still loved me till the end of your days. But Gabrielle is different. She's not as tough as you were. And my baby will also be different. How do I love with tenderness, Tris?

If it was you who was carrying my child I wouldn't be as afraid as I am now, because you knew me enough and knew about Marcus enough to help me along the path. And you had a real father. Gabrielle didn't and I didn't. Gabrielle's father got killed before she was even born. We're both lost at that subject.

I still remember what your father did for you, though. He took you back into his arms even when you transferred to Dauntless and he gave his life so you could live. That's the only reference I have of what a father should be like and I don't think that I'll ever help my daughter or son break into the Dauntless Headquarters.

I wish you were alive to tell me that everything is going to be alright, even when I wouldn't believe you. But then again I remember that you never saw me as a kicked puppy or treated me like one for that matter, even after you found out about Marcus, so why would you say something like that to me now? You never treated me like I was weak, yet you always treated me with love and respect. You were selfless and smart and kind and brave. You took a belt to the wrist to defend me from my father.

Damn, you gave your life to save the memories of thousands of people and I'm afraid of stepping up and becoming a father!

What's the matter with me?

Perhaps I don't have to look to become like your father, perhaps I just have to look to become like you. I have to remind myself about the tattoo in my back and be _brave_, selfless, intelligent, honest and kind. My child will need someone like that in their life. He or she is going to need someone like you in their life.

I can't run away from this. I can't run away like I ran away from my father. I don't want to. I won't.

I will find the strength.

Love

Tobias.


	3. Third Letter

Four Letters

_Third Letter_

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My Tris,

She asked about the tattoo in my back today. She walked into my room while I was changing, she sat on my bed and with those curious eyes she has she asked what the symbols on my back meant and why I have them. I was quick to put on my shirt and I didn't say anything. How do you explain a five year old about the belt marks on your back? About the Factions? About the revolution? About the hundreds of deaths that happened because of a sick experiment?

She asked again, though. I just picked her up and told her that I would tell her when the time was right. She didn't seem content with my answer, but she learned to never argue with me, so she just nodded. But I know this isn't the last time I'm going to hear that question.

Since she was born she has been nothing but persistent. She always has to get her way. In a way, she sort of reminds me of you. When she gets an idea into her head, there's no getting it out of her. She's very smart for a girl her age.

There's not a day that she doesn't surprise me. Her dark blue eyes are always curious, always observing, always questioning. She doesn't say much though, she's a very quiet girl, but when she opens her mouth, not a stupid word comes out. She always has a reason to speak. And she's a tough girl, she never cries, not even when she was a baby. She has fallen from her bed, from the couches, from the dining table and even from trees and she just laughs it off.

She has taught me a lot, and I've been learning to lose my fear of turning into Marcus. I have a soft spot for her, Tris. It's weird because I never had a soft spot for anyone before; I never had the urge to protect someone. I bet you remember that; I was never soft on you. But with Beatrice it is different. My instincts are just different.

I guess that's good. If there is a need to protect her, then there are no thoughts of harming her whatsoever.

I forgot to tell you. We named her Beatrice. To my surprise, Gabrielle suggested it first.

It was hard to find her a nickname, though. Of course Tris was off limits, there is only one Tris and that is you. Gabrielle started calling her Betty, but... I just can't; every time I think about it, I just picture you punching me in the face. So I just settled with Beatrice or B. I call her B almost all the time. Zeke calls her Two, because she's half of me. I believe it's a stupid nickname, but Beatrice likes it and it makes Zeke happy. Beatrice questions my nickname a lot too, but just like with the tattoos, I told her that it was a story for when she grew up.

Everyday that I watch her I just try to figure out in which Faction she would have fitted in. I don't know why though, it's like a weird dysfunctional obsession to all of us. Christina thinks she's Dauntless from head to toes. Zeke and Shauna think so too. Caleb says that she would have been Abnegation considering my genes, but the girl doesn't exactly like to share her toys with the other kids when they come over. Especially with Lynn and Uriah, who are a little older. They are Zeke and Shauna's twins. She likes little Will though, Christina's son, and Tori, the kid that Amar and George adopted from the fringe when she was just a baby.

Christina isn't exactly married, but a few years ago she met this guy named Simon, who she was going to help move into the city. They started living together a year after Beatrice was born. He's a cool guy. Zeke and I played 'Rock, paper, scissors' to see who would give him the big brother talk and I won. Cara called us immature, but she's never been very fun. Maybe that is why she is 'bitter and lonely', or at least that's what she says; Christina and I suspect that she has something going on with Matthew. She punched me when I told her that she wasn't getting any younger.

You'll be happy to know that your brother found someone too. Her name is Alice. Recently we found out that they have a bun in the oven. Your very first nephew or niece.

Caleb is happy, though he says that he would've loved for you and your parents to meet him or her. I know what he means. I wish you could meet Beatrice too. You would like her. She isn't very nice either.

Did I mention that she has a temper just like her father?

Tomorrow's her birthday. She's turning six. It seems like it was just yesterday that I was panicking over becoming a father and now…I am one. I'm not sure if I'm doing a good job though, Tris. I don't want to mess it up.

Sometimes I wonder if my instincts towards Beatrice are different because I love her too much to lose her they way I lost you. I lost you because I couldn't be there to protect you, because I thought you didn't need to be protected. I lost you because I couldn't be there when you probably needed me the most. I know you knew what you were doing, but Tris, a part of me feels, no, _knows_ that if I had been there, then you would be here now. You still had a lot to live for.

You're probably wondering why I'm writing to you this time, why I had the sudden urge to talk to you.

After I carried my daughter out of my room this morning, she told me that she also wanted a tattoo. I looked at her, totally amused, and asked her of what she wanted her tattoo of. What she said made me go cold and for a moment I forgot how to breathe as memories came flooding in all at once. Your smile, your hair, your eyes, everything.

She gave me a big smile and very seriously she said, "I like birds, daddy."

Love,

Tobias.


	4. Fourth Letter

Four Letters

_Fourth Letter_

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My Tris,

I remember that the day of your funeral Christina told me that sometimes life sucks, but that we should hold on for the moments that don't, that the trick was to notice when they come around.

During Gabrielle's funeral I kept thinking of that, of all the moments I had with her that didn't suck. But I also thought of the moments that did. The constant fighting, the night she told me she was pregnant and the day the doctor said that she was dying from cancer. For studying genes so many years, the scientists from the Bureau Compound just couldn't find the cure for that, could they? Matthew says that cancer has infinite ways of expressing itself in our genes, and that they had found cures for many types of cancer, but not for all of them.

There just wasn't a cure for my wife's Stage IV cancer.

I watched the light in her eyes die out every day. It was painful, not only for Beatrice and for me, but for her as well. She continued smiling though, thinking that I needed it. In a way I did, but I knew that no matter what she did, or what I did, at the end she would still die.

Beatrice was strong, like she's always been. But the day of the funeral she finally broke. It was the first time that I saw her cry. While I held her, all I could think about was when I was younger and how lost and scared I felt when I thought that Evelyn had actually died. I was glad to know that at least she would have someone to love her and care for her: me. She will never have that feeling of wanting to run away.

We spread her ashes in the marshy river behind our building, which is fully restored now. The water's clean and you can even see the bottom. The Bureau scientist even incorporated carps and other fish in the river and the lake. A week before Gabrielle died we took Beatrice down there to fish. Or at least try to fish. We didn't really catch anything but a cold since it started raining.

As we spread her ashes I caught myself thinking of you, of your funeral. You have no idea how scared I was when I got into that zip line. My heart almost jumped out my throat, especially because I got in the same way you had: face first. Right as I was about to reach the ground I understood why you had done it that way, I felt like I was flying. I was scared out of my mind, but in a way, I never felt so close to you after your death. It was like you were there, flying with me, regardless if I was carrying your ashes or not.

Gabrielle's death felt different. It was different. I was prepared for it. With her I got to have my 'one more kiss', my 'one more word', my 'one more glance'. What I mean is that I got to say goodbye. I'm not saying it that hurt less, because, Tris, it hurt like hell having to see another person that I love die. It became too painful, because somehow all of those old wounds from your death started bleeding along with these new ones. It's like I was suffering your death all over again. I saw your dead body with hers, I spread your ashes with hers, and I cried your death with hers.

But I was able to find that bravery to grit my teeth through pain again. I didn't have the urge to run off to my Abnegation house and try to drink the memory serum. This time I was a little stronger than when I was just an 18 year old boy. This time I had Beatrice to think about. I know that she needs me more now than ever. She's going to have to grow up without her mother. She's twelve and she's going to have to go through all that teenager crap without her. In a way she'll have it easier though; she won't have to choose a Faction, she won't have to think if she has to leave me or not, she won't have to face the fear of becoming factionless and she won't have to be injected with serums and go through simulations. She won't be a teenager playing to be a soldier like we did. Because that's what we were, teenagers playing to be soldiers, but still just teenagers when we were alone.

I've been talking to Christina while Beatrice sleeps.

I told her how much I would have liked the opportunity to have said goodbye to you the way I said goodbye to Gabrielle, how much I would have liked to be there in your last intake of breath, no matter how much it hurt, because I would've had my last few moments with you. I would've had my 'one more kiss', my 'one more word', my 'one more glance'. All I said to you was an "I'll see you soon". I saw you but you didn't get to see me.

Christina says that maybe the reason why I got to say goodbye to Gabrielle was because I was meant to; but I wasn't meant to say goodbye to you because perhaps I'm not finished with you just yet, that perhaps you still have to "See me soon". It's a silly thought, but I like it and I'm holding in on to it.

Gabrielle kept smiling in her last few minutes of life. She didn't cry. She just reached for my hand and while I held hers back in dear life, her last words to me were: "I'll say hello to Tris for you, okay? And I'll make sure to tell her how wonderfully you've lived and what a wonderful man you've become. I love you."

I'll see you soon,

Tobias.


	5. A fifth letter?

Four Letters

_A fifth letter?_

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Dear Tris,

I've been pondering for a few days now about writing you this letter or not. After having a long conversation with Aunt Christina I finally decided to do it. It's a little odd for me, especially because I'm writing to a complete stranger. Yet, I still feel the necessity to do it. Just like it helped my father to get a peace of mind, I'm hoping that it can do the same for me.

I found my father's letters to you in a drawer, underneath a bunch of government paperwork, while I was cleaning up and packing his stuff. I found them folded up neatly in four different envelopes with no address and no date, just your name. I remember that a couple of days after my mother's funeral I saw him writing one, now I know that it was the last one. I was twelve at the time and I was just coming home from Grandma Evelyn's. I asked him who he was writing to and I swear I'll never forget the look of nostalgia in his eyes and the sad smile as he sat me on his lap and said, "Just a dear old friend of mine."

I knew that I was named after you: Beatrice Prior, Chicago's historic hero, the sixteen year old who saved thousands of people; and I knew that my father knew you, that you were dear to him, and that he fought besides you and Aunt Christina. What I didn't know was that he was romantically involved with you, that you were more to him than just a 'dear old friend'. To be honest, Tris, I was very upset that I had to find out through letters that weren't even addressed to me. Aunt Christina says that he was just trying to protect the image that I had of the love that he had for my mother. But I still don't understand, I mean, he had every right to have loved someone else before my mother. My only guess is that his feelings for you were too strong. I'm just glad that at least my mother was aware of that.

He was a good father to me, the best. And though he could be a little distant and serene at times, he never failed to make me smile, to make me laugh, to hold me when I needed to be held. I never suspected that he had such a great fear of turning into his father. He told me about the belt marks on his back that were covered with ink around the time when I was sixteen; he told me about the Factions and even the origin of the Chicago that I know today, The Fourth City. He told me everything about you, of how brave you were, of how extraordinary you were. How you embraced what you were instead of being scared and used it to make a better future for all of us.

And Tris, I envy you. Not because you were this amazing person and hero; I'm honored to be named after you. I envy you because in someway you knew my father better than I knew him myself. Aunt Christina says that you knew him in a way that nobody else did, that you knew his every thought and how he was feeling before he even spoke, that he acted like a complete different person when he was with you. That you made him better. Even after your death, you still continued being that person he turned to when he needed to talk. And yes, I envy you for that. I wasn't aware of half of the things that I read in his letters.

But then again, I guess that I should be thankful, because if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have met this side of him.

I miss him. You have no idea how much I miss him, Tris.

I was coming back from the fringe with Will and Natalie, your brother Caleb's daughter, when I heard that my father was in the hospital. He had suffered a heart-attack and the doctors said that they weren't sure if he would make it, that he was stable but that his heart was barely beating. He was old, he was 86 years old, but I wasn't anywhere close to being ready for him to leave me.

I entered his hospital room, sat down and took his hand. He opened his eyes and smiled at me. He said, "About time, B, I was waiting for you, little girl. How are the kids?"

I didn't cry, I just smiled and kissed his head and told him about my kids and my trip to the fringe like if it was just another day, having just another normal conversation in his kitchen. We talked for a little while and then he fell asleep. It was the first time that I ever watched my father look so peaceful. He was completely calmed. He wasn't too wrinkly and he still had a lot of white hair in his head. I stayed the night with him, though I didn't sleep.

I was staring out the window around four in the morning, when I heard him stir in his bed. I turned around when he mumbled a "Tris". Thinking that he was babbling and that he was calling me, I got closer to his bed. "Beatrice," he repeated. His eyes weren't entirely closed, he was staring at the wall and that got me a little scared. "Took you long enough, Stiff." And then I knew he wasn't talking to me. He barely smiled. He looked like he was happy, at ease. Now I know that he felt complete.

I held his hand, which he squeezed for a second, and then he was gone. Right then I allowed myself to cry. He didn't say goodbye. At first I was angry over it, but after reading his last letter to you, I understood that he didn't want to say goodbye, that he wasn't going to say goodbye, because it's not the last time that I see him. I agree with him, it's a really comforting thought.

Take care of him, Tris; tell him that I love him and that I'll also see him soon.

Yours Truly,

Beatrice.

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**Hello Peeps! I hope you have liked this set of letters that Four wrote to Tris and the last letter that Four's daughter wrote to Tris. I guess I just wanted a happy ending for Four and to know that he would be okay and that at the end he would be reunited with Tris.**

**Well, if this made you a little sad, then there is the Alternate Ending that I wrote for Allegiant on this same account, so make sure to go check it out. **

**Lots of love, **

**Mary.**

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